show me where my armor ends
by mmoonlit
Summary: Set after the third season finale. Quinn is leaving Lima behind; she's going to Yale, where a whole new life is there for her to take it. But as much as she is slowly letting go from her past, there are some things she refuses to leave. One of them is most certainly Rachel Berry.
1. i rebuild when i break down

**N/A: **This is my first Glee fanfic ever. Like, I've never written anything Glee-related until three days ago. I completely blame the Faberry fandom. I was over Glee, I really was, but then I relapsed spectacularly, started having all these ideas for Quinn, and here I am. I hope you guys enjoy it.

**Disclaimer:** Glee, obviously, doesn't belong to me. I don't know if that makes me happy because I'm not responsible for the trainwreck, or if I'm sad because I can't change it.

**1. i rebuild when i break down**

_When I break pattern, I break ground_  
><em>I rebuild when I break down<em>  
><em>I wake up more awake<em>  
><em>Than I've ever been before<em>

_Pluto - Sleeping at Last_

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><p><em>Dear Quinn,<em>  
><em>Every single time I fantasized about leaving Lima, I never thought I would have written a yearbook message to Quinn Fabray. Ever. But I'm so, so glad that my fantasies are the complete opposite of the reality. From all the people I have met during my formative years, you are one of whom I'll miss the most ‒ not for long, though. You may certainly expect me visiting New Haven next term, and I'll likewise be happy to have you in New York!<em>  
><em>You have a brilliant future ahead of you, Quinn; as brilliant as you are. I'm so proud of being your friend, and I can't wait to witness you shine even more.<em>  
><em>Love, <em>  
><em>Rachel<em> ✩

Quinn puts her yearbook down with a sigh and looks at her bedroom ceiling with disinterest. She should really stop reading that same page over and over again (was it, what, the fiftieth time that week?), but it's not like she has much else to do, right? The paper filled with neat writing and the picture of a smiling Rachel Berry is already smeared by her fingerprints ‒ and, yes, some tears ‒, even though she has had the book for less than a month. It would be really hard to explain if, say, Santana decides to pry through her stuff and finds out she is _obsessing over a message from Berry, of all people_.

And those would be Santana's words, obviously, because Quinn isn't obsessing; she is touched. Rachel Berry said that she is brilliant. The future Broadway star and the most talented person Quinn knows thinks she is more than a pretty face. Even when Quinn was at her worst ‒ and there were more "worst" moments in her high school career than she ever thought possible to handle ‒, Rachel believed in her, despite all the horrible things Quinn had done.

For years, Quinn has found Rachel's inherent kindness absolutely unnerving; no one can possibly be that forgiving, especially of her. All Quinn has ever known was how to manipulate and hurt people to get her way through. She has hurt her own family, by stupidly getting pregnant at fifteen. Even though she would never forgive her father and sister for forsaking her, and in spite of her still rocky relationship with her mother, Quinn couldn't help blaming herself for tearing her family apart. She has also hurt Finn, Puck and Sam, with all the lying and cheating; Santana, when Quinn stomped her way back in the Cheerios last year; Mercedes, by pretending she hadn't been her only solace during the last months of her pregnancy; the rest of the glee club, every time she turned her back on them for some selfish reason; Rachel, whom she has repeatedly attacked morally, emotionally and, once, even physically, and none of them for an acceptable reason. Quinn has even hurt Shelby, whose life she actively tried to ruin to get Beth back.

Beth. The person Quinn has hurt the most, and the only one who wouldn't even remember it ‒ remember _her_. Quinn's perfect thing, her beautiful daughter, whom she has failed extraordinarily. All because she was desperate to find anything in her life that she had done right. She couldn't keep a boyfriend, win any competition, have a functional family or simply, honestly _be loved_. Then Beth came back in her life like a beacon, and it was suddenly all she could see. There she was, the one mistake that turned into something ‒ someone ‒ so flawless; Quinn immediately felt the uncontrollable impulse to take her back. She is glad, now, that she ultimately gave up on her plans, even if it means she'll never get to see her daughter again. She could have never been able to provide a good life to Beth, either at fifteen or seventeen, and Quinn finally understood that Shelby was right: being a mother is really about giving up a part of herself, and to Quinn, it meant giving up _Beth_. Keeping her would have only shattered both their lives, not to mention Puck's. They would have been stuck in Lima, full of bitterness and resentment over every crushed possibility.

Quinn laughs sourly and presses the yearbook against her face. And to think being stuck in Lima was her life plan with Finn once upon a time. It seemed the only reasonable thing to do back then: her father refused to allow her access to her trust fund and her mother's job as an insurance clerk barely covered the bills, so a real college was out of her league. It irritated her to no end that Rachel, with all her talent and supportive parents, could even imagine that simpleton Finn was a right fit for her. No, never leaving that hellhole of a city was for screw-ups like Quinn Fabray. Rachel Berry had a real future within grasp, far away from Lima, and all Quinn could do was watch it happen from the sidelines, lonely ‒ because, yeah, not even Finn wanted her ‒ and perpetually punishing herself for her own mistakes.

But Rachel didn't agree with her in the least. She was the only person in Quinn's life to actually believe she had a future; the only person who could easily see someone in her not even Quinn herself was aware of being. Rachel gave her hope, and her unsettling compassion turned out to be one of Quinn's motivations. Rachel's words had stuck inside her head ‒ words about not having to be scared of the future, getting it right (the painful irony of it was never lost on her) and being an adult ‒, inspiring her to give up her crazy idea of taking Beth away from Shelby and apply to Yale. When she got the acceptance letter, she felt the happiest she had ever been in probably all her life. Quinn was so proud of herself for finally being able to see a concrete path ahead of her, and all she could think about was telling Rachel; seeing that proud smile would mean she had really got it right.

As everything in her life, though, her revelation didn't go as planned, and Quinn groans in exasperation when the memories seeps through her mind. She did get the smile, and a hug more honest and comfortable than any other she had ever got, but she was also met with the possibility of Rachel tying ‒ or tethering, she thinks bitterly ‒ herself to Finn for the rest of her life. Quinn didn't understand it, and what had frustrated her the previous year quickly turned into a desperate, flaming rage. _Rachel Berry_, with a voice that moved masses and an earth-quaking confidence that could take over the world, would settle for _Finn Hudson_, a sore loser who wasn't even sure of what he wanted to do with his own life ‒ apart from destroying Rachel's, of course.

Quinn felt lied to. Everything Rachel had ever told her, and everyone who would listen, about being a star and concentrating on her career, and all her fierce determination to never give up on her dreams ‒ it all crumbled down before one idiotic, rushed and unthought proposal. Quinn tried everything she could think of to talk Rachel out of marrying before she even graduated high school; but as she had been with the path to stardom she had once dreamed of, Rachel was adamant on her decision, to the point of severely damaging their tentative friendship.

It hurt; Quinn had never thought about it until that moment, but Rachel has always had the knack for stripping Quinn's emotions bare without even trying. It's like she can see every crack on the walls Quinn has carefully built to protect herself ‒ to protect the naïve, innocent Lucy inside her. Everything she feels regarding Rachel is unreasonably amplified; Quinn was used to the anger and the envy, her close companions during sophomore and junior years, but what really got to her were all those deep conversations and nerve-racking moments they kept having despite their rivalry. Quinn let her guard down too many times around her, but instead of digging the knife deeper (as Quinn had done many times in the past, whenever their positions were reversed), Rachel always presented herself as a soothing, healing force to all Quinn's wounds, and that created a whole new range of hyperbolic emotions she didn't (doesn't) know how to handle. Quinn hadn't realized she was fighting the chance of having a great friend in Rachel until she decided to consciously let her in.

Albeit their tainted past, their friendship is pure and sincere, and Quinn had never felt so content around anyone before. Rachel is supportive, caring and even funny (in the most quirky way possible, but Quinn has grown to appreciate it). So when that sheer contentment was endangered by their disagreement, Quinn felt her world spin too fast. Time was ticking away and she had to make things right ‒ she couldn't afford to lose the only friendship that wasn't all about stabbing each other's back, pointless conversations or talking endlessly about God. With that in mind, she overcame her pride and decided to support Rachel as she had supported Quinn, even if it meant dealing with the ever-brewing disgust at the pit of her stomach.

That also, _obviously_, because that's just how Quinn's life works, went astray from the plans. She delicately places the book on her bedside table and gets up to walk over to the mirror on the other side of her room just because she can. Just because a few weeks ago she still couldn't. It took only ten seconds and one stupid decision of taking her eyes off the road for her world to turn literally upside down. Her memories are still hazy and she isn't sure she _wants_ to remember, anyway; all that ever comes to her mind are periods of complete numbness followed by excruciating pain, her mother's hand softly holding hers for weeks, bleary words about broken bones and punctured organs and spinal injury from the doctors, a lot of crying faces she couldn't really make out, more surgeries than she could count, and, above all, an overwhelming sensation of failure that she just couldn't fathom.

During those ungodly days she spent bound to a hospital bed, Quinn couldn't help the single-minded feeling of failing Rachel by not showing up at the wedding. She had failed to be there for the only person who really cared about her. She tries not to think about what she would have actually done at the wedding; if she would really be able to stand watching her moron of an ex-boyfriend ruin her friend's future. That line of thought raises questions about the lengths she was willing to go to protect Rachel from maiming her own life ‒ lengths she never crossed for anyone but herself. It makes Quinn feel vulnerable and confused, and she doesn't do either of those feelings. She doesn't do uncertainty.

Ultimately, Quinn did (unintentionally) stop the wedding, and the facts are always more important than 'what ifs'. But while she felt an immense relief knowing Rachel still had a chance to retrace her destiny, Quinn had more pressing matters to deal with. She traces her fingers over her jumper on the places she knows the fabric veils the scars. The accident had left her legs temporarily disabled, not to mention her torso full of cracked bones and shattered glass. Quinn would think that God had already put her through everything to pay for her mistakes, but she was still being tested. So, all alone in her dark room, she started to pray; for herself, for her mother, for her friends, for Beth. Her faith provided her some kind of assuagement, and she decided to try making peace with her past. Easier said than done, but if God had given her one more chance in life, she was going to make it count. She would get up on her feet yet again.

Quinn called Artie to get some pointers on being on a wheelchair; she didn't want to go back to school like a charity case who needed to be wheeled everywhere. It was nice having someone who understood her needs, and she really found a good friend in Artie, but she drew the line when it became clear he wished her condition to be permanent so he wouldn't feel all alone. She really felt for him, but it wasn't her situation and she couldn't afford to be put down any lower. Likewise, Rachel was a lovely company as always, but Quinn kept catching glimpses of guilt in her eyes ‒ like it was her fault that Quinn had been so stupendously irresponsible ‒, and it hurt too much to see Rachel Berry taking pity on her, so she started to avoid her until she could feel comfortable in her new skin. All the other glee kids (including the God Squad) didn't know exactly how to deal with her either, and it was starting to really frustrate Quinn, even though she never let it show.

Except for Joe; he was a godsend, almost literally. A cute, Christian guy with a huge heart, who helped her through her physiotherapy without missing a beat. However, his hesitancy in acting on their mutual attraction made Quinn feel unsettled. She was Quinn Fabray; guys didn't hesitate with her (on the contrary, they got her pregnant). But then she was Quinn Fabray on a wheelchair ‒ an invisible, gross cripple. She had tried to mask her hurt with nonchalance, but that idea tortured her for a couple of days until Joe voiced his real concerns. The reprieve she felt with his kind words gave her such a rush, but they also instantly made her think. There stood yet another boy, ready and willing to do anything for her. Yes, the feeling of control was amazing, and it really boosted her confidence sky high, but Joe was disposed to give up on his _faith_ for her. It was something big. Also, Quinn would be going to Yale in a few months, and while she liked Joe, it was more in the sense of how he made her feel than anything she felt for him. It wouldn't be fair to lead him on just so she could feel good about herself. Quinn grins at her reflection before going back to her bed. Now, that Quinn Fabray was a far cry from her younger self.

She still had an Achilles' heel, though. Her mother's eyes sparkled at the news of Quinn being selected Prom Queen candidate, and suddenly Quinn felt fifteen again, struggling to make her family proud. Only this time it was more because of how hard her mother worked to pay her medical bills along with everything else than some warped sense of family perfection. She needed to be Prom Queen so she could give her mom a little happiness in all that chaos that their lives had turned into ‒ and yes, of course, she wanted to feel on top again. The problem was that, whenever Quinn was on a mission, she didn't give morals a lot of thought; it was all about winning. So she recruited Finn ‒ without disclosing this to Rachel, because she knew very well where that conversation would lead to ‒ to campaign with her, and wasn't above using her physical condition to earn votes, even though she was almost walking without support. It wasn't like she enjoyed dramatizing it; Quinn wasn't one to victimize herself for anything. But all she could think about was her mother's daily sagged shoulders after extenuating working hours, and all those crowns she still kept so carefully safe inside her room. Judy Fabray was a fighter, and so was her daughter. She would win that crown.

And she did. Barely, by one vote, and almost having it ruined by Finn's public bout of violence, but she did. However, Quinn wasn't thinking about her mother or ruling the school anymore. Her mind was once again filled with Rachel's words about friendship and accomplishments. Quinn felt sick with the notion that Rachel had lost everything she had ever dreamed of while she was obsessing over something as insignificant as a plastic crown. Finn was right; she had been a really crappy friend, stealing Rachel's boyfriend away (although she had made her intentions with him very clear ‒ her friendship with Rachel mattered more than fake-liking Finn Hudson _again_ to earn votes) so he would do her bidding and completely abandoning Rachel when she needed support the most. Quinn looks at her bedside table, where a picture of her, Rachel, Santana and Brittany at the Prom sits in a nice, silver frame. Rachel's smile is so big it's almost blinding, and she's supporting a barely standing Quinn with Santana's help. Yeah, Quinn doesn't regret rigging that election in the least.

God seemed to finally decide her high school career of struggling had been enough a punishment, because the last weeks at McKinley were the best she had ever had. Quinn not only started walking again, but was able to sing and dance to help winning Nationals, and ended up being nominated Valedictorian for graduation, thanks to her Yale acceptance, her more than fine GPA and, mostly, all the struggle she went through without dropping the ball. She also gave Puck a little push (that may have been totally a suggestion from Rachel, but it was ultimately Quinn's decision) into finding himself again, and even if the kiss they shared didn't mean anything in particular to her, it felt good to see him graduating. He was the father of her daughter, and she would always love him a bit because of that, but she most definitely wasn't in love with him. Also, Quinn had meant it when she said she wouldn't drag her past into her future, and Noah Puckerman had one big "past" label all over his mohawk.

The rigged prom encouraged Rachel to pick up her confidence and stalk Madam Tibideaux into her NYADA acceptance. Quinn felt so incredibly proud of her (and, secretly, of Santana and herself) that she started to feel sad they wouldn't see each other all the time anymore. Their friendship was really inspiring, and once that Quinn had that taste of what having a real friend was like, she wouldn't give it up that easily. So she bought them train tickets, just so Rachel wouldn't forget not only where her future stood, but that Quinn would be only a couple of hours away for whenever she wanted to see her. In addition to that, a few days later Finn told Quinn and the rest of the glee club about this decision to set Rachel free to go to New York without him, and as much as Quinn felt like thanking Finn for making an adult decision once in his life, she knew Rachel wouldn't take this very well ‒ mostly because she was still thinking they would get married back then. Rachel would need all the support she could get, and Quinn would be ready to be there for her, either in New Haven or New York.

That wouldn't be happening so soon, though. It's still mid-July, and there's still a whole month before Quinn has to go to Yale. Her dorm room is secured thanks to the trust fund she and her mom finally wrestled away from her father to pay for the tuition, so she doesn't have to worry about fishing for a place to live. She's basically bored out of her mind, hence the whole yearbook rereading drill. Quinn rolls on her back and picks up her phone on her bedside table. She doesn't like the little shiver that goes down her spine whenever she feels the device between her fingers, but she figures she'll have to deal with it and act like a normal human being. It took her almost a month to finally buy a new phone after the accident, and it had been only because her mom had nagged on and on about Quinn isolating herself from her friends. Which was her intention, but she decided to placate her mother and just bought the damn thing. Grimacing at the bright screen, Quinn reads the time: 11:46 in the morning, also known as too early to call anyone to hang out. Mercedes is at work in a retail shop at the Lima Mall, Santana (and Brittany, probably together) must be sleeping like a rock, Sam is babysitting his siblings, Joe is out of town in a Christian Camp since last month, and Rachel is in New York, of course.

As if on cue, her phone buzzes against her palm and Quinn almost drops it with a gasp. Then she reads the name _Rachel_ and feels a smile creeping up on her face ‒ speaking of the devil. She hasn't talked to Rachel properly since before she went to New York two weeks ago, apart from a few text messages here and there. Quinn lets the third ring play out before answering ‒ Rachel doesn't need to know how desperate she is to have someone to talk to.

"Hey, Rach," she calls out good-naturedly, already expecting the over-effusive response. The nickname is spontaneous by now; Rachel really seems to appreciate it, so Quinn tends to favor it over her full name.

"_Good morning, Quinn! I hope I'm not waking you up or interrupting anything,_" Rachel replied chipperly, and Quinn can nearly envision the Broadway smile on her face on the other side of the line. The thought of it makes her chuckle.

"No, I woke up ages ago. I'm just contemplating the vastness of my boredom right now, so I'm actually glad you called. How are you?" she asks, grinning at the giggle she gets as a reaction.

"_I'm wonderful, thank you for asking. And how are you, apart from your obvious lethargy?_" Rachel inquires in an amused tone, and there is the idiosyncratic humor Quinn became rather fond of.

"I'm fine. You know, same old. How's the Big Apple?"

"_Oh, it's marvelous, as usual, but I got back to Lima last night, so I can empathize with the monotony,_" Rachel's speech is mostly on the matter-of-fact side, but there's an edge of something Quinn can't decipher. She doesn't dwell on it, though, because the idea of having her friend back in Lima to free her from her uneventful days brings a full-blown smile to her face.

"You're back already? I thought you'd spend more time in New York with your dads or something," she asks, recalling their text exchanges. Not once have Rachel mentioned coming back so soon.

"_They needed to get back to work, so we all came back. I'll have plenty of New York very soon, and I- I never got the chance to- to really say goodbye to Lima, so now that everything is set with my housing at NYADA, I decided to spend my last month here,_" she explains quietly with a breaking voice, and Quinn almost punches herself in reprimand. Of course Rachel wanted to come back; Finn had put her in a train without even giving her a chance to come to terms about leaving Lima or him.

The glee kids threw him a small farewell party at Puck's house last week. Nobody mentioned Rachel or New York the whole night, and on the next morning he was gone to Georgia for his basic training. Quinn bites her lip and holds out a sigh before answering.

"Oh, that's nice. Welcome back, Rach," she manages, trying not to sound too solemn.

"_Thank you, Quinn. I'm happy to be back,_" Rachel answers in a shy timbre, and there's a somewhat nervous pause before she resumes her talking. "_I-I was wondering if- if you'd like to meet me at the Lima Bean later._"

Quinn barks out a laugh, relieved both for the opportunity of hanging out and for Rachel dismissing the touchy subject so quickly.

"Yes, please! I'm dying to get out of this house. You're my savior," she replies quickly, not even bothered by how needy she sounded. She _really_ needed to get out.

"_Well, I'm glad to be of help,_" Rachel says in a delighted voice. "_Is 2 PM appropriate?_"

"Perfect. I'll see you there," Quinn responds, already getting up to have a quick shower.

"_See you, Quinn,_" are Rachel's last words before the call ends.

Quinn places her phone on her vanity, checks herself again on the mirror beside it and smiles; one phone call and her day has already taken a full turn for the better.


	2. suddenly i see you

**N/A: **Heeey, guys! Sorry I couldn't update sooner. I had like a lifetime of papers to write, so the rest my life was pretty much on hold for a while. I'm mostly back now, and I'm compensating with a huge chapter full of Quinn and Rachel from beginning to end! Have fun!

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><p><strong>2. suddenly i see you<strong>

_I was a billion little pieces  
>'Til you pulled me into focus<br>Astronomy in reverse  
>It was me who was discovered<em>

_Venus - Sleeping at Last_

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><p>It isn't until Quinn gets out of the car ‒ she's slowly coming to terms with driving, one small nightmare of a trip at a time, mostly because her mom is never home to drive her anywhere and Quinn refuses to let PTSD rule her life ‒ that she realizes it's the first time she's meeting Rachel outside of school and it's only the two of them. She's struck by the thought and by how much it doesn't bother her. I could be because they have studied and attended glee club together daily for years, but Quinn knows that's not the reason. She's perfectly aware of how new this is, but it's such an expected development in their friendship that it feels natural; they are going to visit each other next term, after all. This is their new thing, and it makes her smile.<p>

About a minute later, she's sat at a table not far from the balcony when the front door opens to reveal Rachel Berry wearing a cute red and white polka dot sundress ‒ thank God her wardrobe is slowly becoming rather fashionable; hopefully New York will enhance that tendency. Quinn smiles and raises her eyebrows in mild surprise, because while it's completely expected from Rachel, she's not used to hanging out with someone so punctual. All her other friends (except for Joe, maybe, but they have never actually hung out apart from her physiotherapy sessions) are always at least half an hour late to their appointments ‒ Santana, naturally, takes about two hours to meet her, so Quinn never even bothers with punctuality either. The same line of thought seems to go through Rachel's mind when their eyes meet, if her slightly taken aback expression is anything to go by. But soon her face turns into elation as she quickly walks toward Quinn, who gets up to greet her with a pleased grin of her own.

"Hi, Quinn," Rachel greets happily, but tenses up like a startled rabbit as she stands in front of Quinn, who rolls her eyes in amusement.

"Yes, Rach, you can hug me," she barely ends her sentence when (after a small squeal) delicate arms wrap around her torso in a tight embrace. Quinn chuckles, basking in Rachel's touchy-feely nature that used to annoy her in the past. Hugs have always made her feel uncomfortable ‒ it's a way of letting people too close, which makes her instantly wary. Besides, she doesn't know the proper hug etiquette, since it has never been a thing inside her family; she has no idea when it's okay to hug, or how long must it last. But hugging Rachel is an entirely new experience, and she's finding the whole thing extremely enjoyable. It's relaxing and pleasant, largely because Quinn understands it's Rachel's way of expressing how much she appreciates having her around.

Quinn doesn't time their hug, but she figures it might fall into the I-missed-you-so-much category. She's not sure, but chooses to think like that, because she has kind of missed Rachel, too.

"I'm sorry for making you wait. I'm actually used to waiting an eternity for Kurt, so your punctuality is quite refreshing," Rachel reveals in a bashful tone while they sit opposite each other at the table.

"I arrived like a minute ago, don't worry. And we're probably the only punctual people in this city, anyway, because I was thinking the same thing," Quinn replies and smirks, but she can't help but notice that Rachel didn't mention how Finn never arrives on time for anything. She decides to file this blatant omission for further examination later.

Rachel looks outside briefly, then her face scrunches up in a worried expression. "Did you come here driving?" she asks with urgency, searching Quinn's face for something ‒ what, an injury? Visual proof of any traumas? "I'm so sorry, Quinn, I should have offered to pick you up."

"Rachel, it's fine," Quinn drawls with annoyance, even though she finds Rachel's unexpected concern sort of endearing. "I'm not freaking out about driving or anything. I just never take my eyes off the road anymore, which is actually a good thing, so whatever. Don't worry, really."

It's an extreme toning down, of course — driving still leaves her rather shaky and nauseous —, but Quinn doesn't want to feed Rachel's obvious anguish. It's bad enough that she never really overcame her guilt over her accident. Rachel nods once, and the tense moment is mercifully interrupted by the waitress. Quinn makes her order, and watches with curiosity as Rachel makes hers. As the attendant leaves, she turns to Quinn in silent questioning.

"It's just- isn't it hard, being a vegan? I mean, most places don't even have vegetarian options that aren't salad, so vegans must have extra trouble with this. Like ordering soy milk or having food that doesn't contain dairy or eggs," she inquires, eyeing Rachel attentively as she comes to really acknowledge her friend's convictions for the first time.

"Why, Quinn, I'm surprised you know so much about veganism! Not- not many people can't tell the difference from vegetarianism," Rachel replies with a pleased smile that falters for a heartbeat, and it's obvious to Quinn that she was about to talk about Finn (who probably can't even remember that Rachel is a vegan most times - just like he never seemed to recall Quinn is allergic to peanuts, if the weekly Butterfinger bars he used give her when she was pregnant were any indication). "And you're right, it is very hard. Here is one of the safe places in Lima, but mostly I must count on my dad's homemade food or Asiatic cuisine take out."

"I'm not trying to sound disrespectful or anything, but don't you ever think about giving up?" Quinn asks carefully, because she doesn't think she could ever live with so many restrictions. It was hard enough following Sue Sylvester's crazy diet when she was cheerleader, and even then she would eventually bend for some bacon to appease her craving.

"Never. My convictions are too important to me. I respect that other people don't share them, and I understand that I make my life considerably harder by deciding to be vegan, but I don't mind it if I get to have peace of mind in exchange," Rachel answers simply, her eyes meeting Quinn's with that fire that ignites her brown iris every time she talks about something she loves.

Quinn smiles and arches her eyebrows at her friend; she remembers Joe and his devotion to his faith, and she can't help but admire Rachel Berry a little bit more. "That's good, being true to your beliefs. It's really impressive, actually," she concludes with a thoughtful expression, and Rachel reacts with a sweet, shy smile. It's intriguing to find out that the bluntest person she knows (apart from Santana, obviously) is actually rather timid. Quinn has always prided herself of having deep knowledge of her enemies, but the more she gets to know Rachel, the more she becomes aware of how much she has missed.

"Thank you, Quinn," Rachel says, and then her phone buzzes inside her white handbag. Frowning, Rachel fishes it and stares at the screen. "Oh, it's Daddy. He's browsing for furniture to redecorate his office, so he probably wants an opinion. Do you mind if I answer this phone call?"

"No, not at all," Quinn replies, and Rachel walks out from the cafe to greet her father happily on the phone. Quinn is surprised by the sneak peek of Rachel's relationship with her dads. It seems so...equal? There doesn't seem to be a hierarchy, and her opinion is as important as her fathers', even for something as trivial as decoration.

Quinn comes from a household where she was always supposed to follow a very strict line ‒ perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect future someone's wife. Those notions went away along with her father, because Judy was afraid of asking too much from Quinn and ending up losing her again. She never uttered a word during Quinn's punk phase, no matter how much her face crumpled whenever she caught sight of her daughter. Quinn didn't offer her any explanations for her erratic behavior ‒ there were no words about how undeserving she felt, watching everyone around her loving and being loved by someone, except for the supposed high school princess, or about how everything she did was never good enough. She didn't trust her mother enough back then, and their relationship was strained for several months. But after Quinn woke up from the accident, they had a very heartfelt conversation about expectations and reliance, and their bond only improved since.

Still, it's nothing like what Rachel seems to have with her parents. Quinn wonders how can people think a gay couple isn't able to properly raise a child. It's so preposterous, even more so when she looks at Rachel Berry, McKinley's 2012 Salutatorian, Show Choir National champion, NYADA student and future Broadway star. Quinn grew up in a traditional family ‒ in the most extreme sense of the word ‒, and it has done nothing for her but making her feel miserable and anxious and hated. What's so good about having the white-picket-fence American dream if it's all made of lies? If all it takes is one mistake to everything turn to dust? She would rather have a "non-traditional" family like Rachel's and feel unconditionally accepted and loved.

Quinn shakes her head to dismiss those thoughts. She loves her mom, and she _is_ accepted and loved ‒ only not by her father and sister. But she has her mom and her friends, she's going to Yale and that's what matters.

Her phone buzzes quietly inside her tote, and Quinn grabs it to read the text message she has just received. It's from Santana.

_Santana: Where the fuck are you, Q? I dropped by your house but no one is answering_

Snorting, Quinn unlocks the screen to reply. Santana is simply unbelievable.

_Quinn: That's why people call first, Santana  
>Santana: Whatever. Where are you, bitch?<br>Quinn: Not that it's any of your business, but I'm at Lima Bean with Rachel  
>Santana: Berry? Wtf?<br>Quinn: We've been friends for a while now, don't act so surprised  
>Santana: Yeah, she's kinda cool when she's not being a pain in the ass<em>

That's probably the closest to a compliment Rachel will ever get from Santana, Quinn muses with a grin.

_Quinn: Coming from you, I'm actually flattered on her behalf  
><em>_Santana: Anyway, couldn't you have gone to Breadstix so I could crash your date and actually enjoy it? What the hell am I going to do there?_

Seriously? Quinn huffs, glaring at the conversation box. Where is Brittany when she needs Santana off her back?

_Quinn: You can also not come here, since I don't recall inviting you. Go bother Britt, in whatever capacity you choose to interpret the word  
><em>_Santana: Wanky. Not even going to deny it's a date, huh?_

Quinn rolls her eyes, _hard_, at the juvenileness of Santana's teasing, but refrains from swearing out loud so not to startle the waitress, who stops by the table to place hers and Rachel's orders on it. Quinn thanks her politely before turning back to her phone.

_Quinn: What are you, twelve?  
><em>_Santana: No, but Berry could easily be mistaken for one  
><em>_Quinn: Jealous, Santana?  
><em>_Santana: Please, like I'd be jealous of the hobbit. Anyway, you're still talking to me, so I bet it's boring the hell out of you_

The last message actually makes Quinn laugh, because, yeah, last year she would have rather jumped into a sulfur acid pool than meeting Rachel Berry for anything. Time does change people. She looks up to find Rachel walking back inside the building and fires a reply to Santana.

_Quinn:_ _Rachel was talking to her dad on the phone, but she's coming back now so I'll just ignore you, bye.  
>Santana: Already whipped? Berry's good<em>

"I see this has turned into a mobile phone interlude," Rachel comments in amusement as Quinn drops her phone back inside her tote with a silent grunt.

"It's just Santana being a bitch. She went by my house and is mad at _me _for not being home when she didn't even bother calling first," Quinn provides with a shrug, sipping her latte with a trained blank expression.

"Oh, do you wish to meet her?" Rachel asks, looking slightly put out, and Quinn shakes her head immediately, disgust splattered upon her face.

"God, no. Britt's probably busy with something and Santana's bored. A bored Santana is the last thing I want in my _life_."

Also, Quinn is enjoying Rachel's company quite a lot, but she keeps that information to herself as she watches her friend giggle in response and happily drink her soy latte. "How's your father?" she asks in a deliberate change of subject ‒ and because she really wants to know more about Rachel's family.

"Oh, he's just being dramatic. He's in crisis between wallpaper colors, but he always ends up choosing gold and royal blue," Rachel replies with an exasperated eye roll.

"Sounds like someone I know," Quinn quips with a smirk, having witnessed Rachel mirror her Daddy's behavior way too many times. True to her nature, Rachel opens her mouth in outrage and places a hand over her heart, but there's a hint of jest in her actions.

"Don't mock me, Quinn Fabray! My endeavors are always perfectly valid," she counters with a frown, but obviously tries to smother a smile behind her paper cup, which makes Quinn laugh.

"I won't even argue with you," she announces slyly, thoroughly digging the playful teasing. It's so different from the insults that fly between her and Santana, which are always laced with a bit of true venom (even though Quinn does consider them real friends by now), and it's not something she can do with her other close friends. Joe doesn't have the sense of humor, Sam and Brittany don't have the wits, and Mercedes is too much of a diva to not take herself so seriously. But then again, Rachel Berry probably invented the word diva and yet there she is, openly bantering with Quinn. She's really something else.

Rachel growls with a dignified pose, but it's something more like a harmless little kitty. She couldn't be a mean girl if she tried.

They stay in a comfortable silence for a little while, enjoying each other's company and drinking their beverages. When Rachel begins to fiddle with her Star of David necklace, Quinn instinctively recollects those two moments she had previously documented and places her full attention on the girl in front of her. She already knows what's coming.

"How was- Finn's party?" Rachel asks quietly, staring at the table while her face acquires a stony aspect, as if she is making a physical effort not to collapse. She probably is.

"Rachel-" Quinn begins with a sigh, biting her lip nervously. She doesn't even know what to say; she just needs to say something, but Rachel is quick to interrupt her.

"I-I have Facebook, you know? It's not like I didn't see the pictures all over everyone's timelines. A-and I'm not mad. Finn wouldn't t-talk to me, but Kurt told me when he would be going. He also asked me not to show up," she explains with a breaking voice, but miraculously managing not to cry. Her eyes are still trained on the tabletop, though, and maybe that's what is keeping her ground.

"Is this why you called me? Is it because you didn't want to ask Kurt?" Quinn asks gently, without a tinge of accusation. She is just trying to understand, and Rachel probably gets it, because she finally looks at Quinn with a dead serious expression.

"No. This is not why I called you, Quinn. I'm sorry if my question made you uncomfortable. You don't have to answer," she replies truthfully, but her hands are pressed firmly against the wood and Quinn has an inkling she's not feeling half the strength she's trying to transmit.

"You're worried about _me_ being uncomfortable?" Quinn wonders, lifting one eyebrow in slight shock. "Rachel, I- Okay. The party was fun, even though we didn't drink alcohol because Puck's mom found his liquor stash and threw the whole thing away. Which was a good thing, because it was already heavy with meaning without Santana being the crying drunk. We sang him Coldplay's Strawberry Swing, everybody got real emotional, we all hugged it out and left before midnight because he was supposed to leave early the next morning anyway."

Quinn's words are blunt but her tone is soft, and her sharp hazel eyes are locked on Rachel's big, brown ones during the whole speech. They are completely unguarded, so Quinn is able to discern every feeling that flows through them ‒ surprise, understanding, apprehension, sadness and anguish, plastered upon her face all at once. The tears started flowing by the time she mentioned Santana, and Quinn doesn't understand why, but it isn't really important; all she wants right now is to find a way to make Rachel feel better. What do you say to a girl whose (ex-)boyfriend has just joined the freaking army?

"I see," Rachel manages in a whisper, and Quinn hands her a napkin to clean up her face. The moment Rachel picks it up and their fingers scantily touch, a déjà vu of their reversed positions at junior prom nearly knocks Quinn over, and she just _knows_ Rachel is thinking the same thing, because she smiles timidly and gives her a knowing look before their skins disconnect. It feels a bit like retribution ‒ like redemption. It's invigorating. "Thank you, Quinn."

"I'm sorry you couldn't be here to see him off, Rach," Quinn says, dropping her hand to squeeze Rachel's once in reassurance. Rachel breathes out slowly, calming down as she dabs her face delicately with the napkin.

"I realized it's better this way, for the both of us, I guess," she confesses in a trembled voice, but her face lets her certainty show. Then she adds with a sheepish smile, "But I did consider presenting him with a rendition of I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues."

Quinn laughs softly, because _of course_. "As sweet as it sounds, I don't know if Finn would have been able to appreciate Elton John's subtlety," she replies, smirking to convey her playful jab ‒ although that is just the truth.

"While that was a considerably mean notion, I get your point," Rachel says in a teary chuckle, and Quinn grins mischievously. "But I'm more impressed that it looks like you have just accidentally come out as a big Elton John fan."

A mild blush creeps up Quinn's face over the observation. Oh, God, she has just _sounded_ like Rachel, all defensive about music and meaningful songs, but the most disconcerting part is that Rachel has absolutely nailed it.

"I like his lyrics. And the melodies, of course. But I'm mostly drawn to the lyrics," she admits in an embarrassed tone, drinking her latte just so she has something to do with her hands. Give it to Rachel Berry to make her feel nervous about liking music. She's glad for the change of subject, anyway; she's aware that's exactly Rachel's intention (it takes a master of deflection to know one), but makes no move to stop her.

"Hmmm, you did sing I'm Still Standing with Artie, but I thought he had been the one to pick the song," Rachel ponders thoughtfully, and Quinn feels relieved that, for the first time, she doesn't look at her guiltily with memories of her in a wheelchair and the reasons behind them.

"I'm wounded," she mockingly pouts, but she probably deserves the misconception. It's not like she has ever showed endless commitment to the glee club, anyway. "I'm no music geek like you, but I- I sort of enjoy old songs in general."

Santana called Quinn an old lonely cat lady (when Brittany wasn't listening, of course) when she decided to sing Take My Breath Away at senior prom, but sue her if she would rather dance to Berlin than stupid One Direction, or start her day with Pat Benatar instead of Katy Perry. Old songs are captivating and there is nothing wrong with that ‒ except that she is blushing fiercely now.

"Now that I'm recalling some of your performances, I've come to the same conclusion," Rachel reflects, beaming at her realization, and Quinn has to suppress a groan when her expression turns into a teasing one as she goes on, "Well, I admit it does fit your whole classic style, but who would've guessed that Quinn Fabray is such a romantic girl?"

"I'm not!" Quinn denies quickly, but her voice reaches a squeaky pitch that doesn't really help her argument and Rachel raises her eyebrows with a smug look. So much for the cool and aloof ice queen that blatantly lied her way through high school. "Okay, maybe a little. I just...I don't know. I like it. I know it's old fashioned, but I like it," she mutters, looking away from Rachel with a slight frown.

How is it that Quinn is never able to lie or simply keep her cool around her? That girl always has her on her toes, that much she has always known. But what really intrigues Quinn is that, at some point during the last months, what used to piss her off actually became one of the things she admires most about Rachel. She challenges Quinn, mostly without realizing it, and forces her to reflect upon her actions, be them ruining Shelby's life or something as silly as lying about her secret girlish side.

"I think it's lovely and nothing to be ashamed of, but your secret is safe with me," Rachel concludes with a gentle smile - as if she can see the turmoil building inside Quinn -, and disarms her with embarrassing ease. "I just wish you would have sung more at glee club. I really like your voice."

"Oh, please," Quinn scoffs, rolling her eyes in disbelief. "My voice is sharp and I have, like, zero breath control."

"That's not true," Rachel denies, but Quinn merely quirks an eyebrow at her - because, _really_? - and she bites her lip before rephrasing, "I've always told you it's only a matter of vocal training. I could have easily assisted you with that, as we did when we sang our mash up. Which was formidable, by the way."

Quinn smiles a little at the memory because, yes, although they weren't anything close to friends back then, that song had turned out great. They really should have sang more.

"So it is true," she presses on in amusement, watching Rachel squirm between honesty and pleasantry. It's clearly very hard for her, but Quinn is touched that she seems to be trying not to hurt her feelings. Rachel has come a long way from the girl who would openly call all her peers out on their musical flaws. They've both really changed a lot.

"Okay, I did say your voice is occasionally sharp, and you may have a little trouble with breath control, but it got a lot better since then, and it is really all about training," Rachel replies quickly, but she relaxes and grins at the sound of Quinn's laugh. "But I mean it, Quinn. Your voice really is nice. I'll miss it."

"You're talking like you'll never see me again," Quinn remarks softly, feeling strangely giddy with their conversation, and Rachel's whole demeanor sharpens suddenly.

"Are you suggesting that we sing together in the future?" she asks with a glint of excitement in her eyes, and Quinn needs a few seconds to catch up with her train of thought.

"Uh- I don't know?" she replies meekly, frowning as she tries to decide. Well, she did think they should have sang more, but still - it's Rachel Berry, the most talented singer she's ever seen. On the other hand, it's Rachel Berry, her friend who wants to spend time with her doing something she loves. "I mean, I'd rather not perform to a crowd again, but we can sing just for fun sometimes, I guess. Privately, that is."

"Oh, Quinn! I would love to sing with you!" Rachel gushes happily, practically bouncing on her chair. "You know me, I would love to sing always, but I'd be incredibly happy to sing with you!"

Quinn ducks her head bashfully. "It's really not a big deal, Rach."

"Of course it is! It's going to be amazing!"

"You know, you're the NYADA student here. I'm just an aspiring Drama major," Quinn reminds her, chuckling at the well-known over the top reaction that Rachel has trademarked over the years.

"Don't bring yourself down, Quinn," Rachel admonishes with a playful slap on Quinn's arm. "I'm already thinking of a few songs we could sing together that would fit our vocal ranges perfectly."

"Oh, my God, I've created a monster," Quinn mutters, despite the fact she already finds herself looking forward to singing with Rachel.

Rachel doesn't seem to understand that, because she shyly deflates at her comment and looks down forlornly. "It's just that... I don't always get a chance to sing with someone just for the fun of it. I mean, Kurt and I have our moments of Broadway renditions, but it's always some sort of competition between us. I enjoy the challenge, of course, but I'm aware we're not doing it just because we're friends who love singing. Not to mention that, now that I'm going to NYADA and he's not, our exchanges are a little tense. And Finn..." Rachel vacillates at his name, tracing circles on the table. "Outside of Glee, our musical preferences never really matched, so often either one of us didn't like the song playing on the radio. It was always hard to find common ground, so we never really sang together much," she completes in an even sadder tone.

Quinn heart lurches painfully. The fact that Rachel only seems to count on Kurt and Finn when she has spent three years surrounded by singers isn't lost on her, and Rachel's loneliness crashes upon her with suffocating strength. Even the two boys are getting out of her reach - Finn's gone to army training, but Rachel has just made it very clear to Quinn that their relationship wasn't always fun and games (not that she hasn't always known that, anyway). And Kurt must have been having a hard time accepting Rachel is living her dream while he isn't - a feeling Quinn came so close to knowing last year and thank God she doesn't, so she can't exactly blame him.

Then, there is Rachel, turning to her, of all people, and trusting Quinn not to let her down as well, despite all their history. It still baffles her that Rachel is capable of confiding so much in her, but then again she has already done that, back when Finn so stupidly proposed. It's different now, though, and suddenly Rachel's excitement over karaokeing together is explained - she just wants her company. That notion fills Quinn with contentment and sense of purpose, so she hums cheerfully, tilting her head with a teasing expression.

"Well, as I said, I'm not pursuing a musical career, nor I intend to. And my musical preferences are pretty easy to accommodate, I guess," she asserts smoothly, nodding comically and making Rachel giggle. "Also, we're kind of friends, right?"

"Kind of," Rachel replies with a full-blown smile, evidently recognizing her own words from months ago. That smile soon disappears, though, replaced by a crease on her brow, and Quinn is afraid she'll resume talking about Finn, but then she announces in a sober tone, "Quinn, the reason why I called you here, apart from honestly wanting to see you, is because I wanted to talk to you in person about something."

Quinn flinches, her mind searching wildly for any subject that would require that serious expression on Rachel's face. She can't find any, so she licks her lower lip nervously and straightens up, replying, "Okay, go on."

She watches Rachel take a deep breath and open her mouth slowly, as if choosing carefully what to say. But nothing that had gone through Quinn's mind could have prepared her for, "I-I ran into Shelby in New York."

Shelby. The name echoes in the distance, taking Quinn away from reality. Rachel saw Shelby in New York. Shelby is back in New York. _Beth_ is back in New York. Quinn's head goes haywire and the world goes in and out of focus rapidly. She tries to convey that information, but it's proving to be too much for her numb brain, so she decides to just carry on because surely there's more to come.

"Oh," she manages, placing both hands on the table to keep her still. She exhales and tries to calm herself down before asking, "And how did it go?"

Rachel wraps a finger around a strand of her hair with a disappointed face. "Not very good at first. I was visiting the Gershwin Theatre with my dads two days ago when we bumped into her and-and Beth, so you can imagine how awkward it was," she says quietly, and Quinn winces when it fully hits her that Rachel is talking about her own mother as well as Beth's. It must have been hard for her for a whole other reason, yet there she is, sharing information with her. "But that's not why I'm approaching the subject. What I wanted to say was...I talked to her- about you."

That causes Quinn to freeze on spot, and her eyes locks onto Rachel's in absolute shock as she whispers in a weak voice, "She asked about me?"

"Not really," Rachel reveals in an apologetic tone, which makes Quinn all the more confused. "She actually asked if I would be able to handle the big change of lifestyle from Lima to New York all by myself. I said I'm sure can handle everything just fine, and that if I ever missed Lima, I could always visit you at Yale," she explains as she looks down, her cheeks tinting with a modest shade of red.

Quinn can't suppress the small smile that illuminates her heretofore troubled face, but the anxiety never leaves Rachel's expression, indicating that it isn't all there is to the subject. "And what did she say?" she asks carefully, feeling a twist in her stomach.

"She looked impressed, but didn't actually say anything," Rachel says, and Quinn is somewhat pleased with the indignant frown she wears as she goes on, "So I started talking about how much you have changed and how-how proud I am of you and that you deserved a second chance."

There is a pause, during which Rachel looks like she's going to pass out and Quinn just stares at her, heart thumping violently against her chest. She feels her eyes prickle with tears she already knows she won't be able to hold back. Rachel had defended her to her mother - to Beth's mother. She had asked Shelby to give her a second chance. Quinn can't even wrap her mind around to where that could lead her, but she knows she has to say something.

"Rach-"

"I'm sorry, Quinn, I really am," Rachel interrupts quickly in a desperate voice, her eyes shut as she grabs the edges of the table so hard her knuckles turn white. "It's just that I was there, with my dads, meeting my mother and your daughter and it was so uncomfortable. You shouldn't have to go through that with Beth."

"Rach-" Quinn tries again, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now, but Rachel beats her to it once again.

"But I crossed the line. What if you don't want to meet her anymore? I assumed you wanted to, but- oh, God, I absolutely crossed the line. Quinn, I'm so sorry."

Sighing, Quinn grips Rachel's arms until she opens her eyes and looks at her. "Rachel, calm down," she requests, breathing unevenly as she tries to express her chaotic thoughts in words. It takes a while, but eventually she manages, staring deeply at Rachel's eyes as tears cloud up her vision. "I-Thank you. I don't even know what to say to you. Thank you, really. I really appreciate it." Those words don't even begin to cover it, but it's a start.

"Really?" Rachel asks with a small smile, gradually unwinding as she takes Quinn's words in.

"Yeah. I-This is amazing. You were amazing," Quinn says before laughing hysterically for a while, and Rachel beams in response. "I didn't know if I could ever approach Shelby again after everything I've done, and almost done, to her. I thought she would never believe that I just want to watch Beth grow, but you talking to her-" she stops, realizing that, between her excitement and Rachel's despair, she never got Shelby's reaction, and her heart beating falters. "What- what was her answer?"

"She said she would think about it, so I gave her your number, just in case," Rachel replies, smiling sheepishly, and Quinn feels her breath hitch. "I know it's not appropriate, but I didn't want to upset my dads by getting her number instead. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh my God, Rachel! Thank you so much!" Quinn exclaims as her hands cover her mouth, feeling overwhelmed as the realization that she might have a chance to see Beth again lights up her entire being. "You have no idea how much this means to me," she adds, because not even Quinn herself knows how much this could mean. Rachel might have just changed her life. _Again_.

"I may have," Rachel says, offering Quinn a napkin, which she takes with a soft chuckle. It's almost an inside joke now. "Not exactly, but I believe I can relate, somehow."

Quinn sobers up immediately at that, swallowing her emotions. She needs to be there for Rachel in exchange. "Of course. Are you two in good terms?"

"Something like that," Rachel replies, pursing her lips in slight discontentment. "I don't think we'll ever have a proper mother-daughter relationship, but we're reaching a point where we can at least be friends."

Rachel's words about not wanting her life repeats itself strikes Quinn once more, and she feels her heart simultaneously constrict and swell. She doesn't want Beth to ever feel like that; she'll do everything she can to prevent it. She wishes Shelby would make the same effort with Rachel as well. "That's really good, Rach."

They exchange relaxed smiles for a few seconds, and then Rachel says in a sweet voice, "I hope Shelby calls you."

"I hope so too," Quinn replies, leaning back lazily and quirking an eyebrow at Rachel. "But right now I'm thinking about how I can ever repay you."

"It was nothing, Quinn," Rachel dismisses her with a wave, shaking her head. "You're my friend. Friends stand up for each other, right?" she remarks with a joyful grin that leaves her face the moment she sips her cold soy latte and shudders. The inspiration surges inside Quinn immediately and she smiles wickedly.

"Well, how about I stand up for you and make you a vegan dessert tomorrow?" she proposes, feeling very pleased with herself as Rachel frowns in confusion. "I'll have to Google it, sure, but I think I can manage it. You can come by my house after lunch and we'll watch a movie or something."

It obviously won't compare to maybe having her daughter in her life again, and it is probably a bit of a selfish proposal, since she really wants Rachel's company, but it's what she can do for now. Rachel has always wanted her friendship - it's time Quinn shows her (as well as herself) how great a friend she can be.

"That-that sounds really lovely, Quinn," Rachel replies slowly, clearly taken by surprise but also sounding appreciative. "I'd love to visit your house, but it's really not nec-"

"Then it's settled." Quinn cuts her, beating Rachel at her own game with a smug expression. "I'll have you know that I cook very well, so you won't be disappointed."

Rachel bubbly laughter comes as an anticipated payoff for all the research and store browsing Quinn will have to face. "I'm sure I won't," she says, radiating in contentment, and Quinn's heart is suddenly full with satisfaction. Their friendship is really something she has never experienced before, and it's exhilarating.

It's a little weird, Quinn thinks as they easily take the conversation to lighter subjects, but also the most natural thing in the world, that she just can't escape the feeling that Rachel Berry is already her best friend ‒ the best she has ever had.


End file.
